


Somewhere In-Between

by TruthandLies



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Auradon traditions, F/F, Fire Magic, First Kiss, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthandLies/pseuds/TruthandLies
Summary: When Mal uses magic to protect Dizzy from a cruel holiday tradition, she accidentally sets the school on fire. In the aftermath of the destruction, she's forced to learn more about Auradon . . . and about herself.





	Somewhere In-Between

_In retrospect, it had probably been a bad idea to set the school on fire…_

Mal stands before the blazing entrance of Auradon Prep, smoke curling through her fisted fingers. Her heart thumps into her throat. _Oh, wicked villains and scheming ghouls. This wasn’t supposed to happen._

Flames jet above the double oak doors, flickering from the wreath of junk. The Auradon symbol of Thanksgiving sizzles and blackens, shooting sparks from its collection of bottle caps and wrappers.

“Mal.” Evie curls trembling fingers around Mal’s shoulder. “You’ve gotta put out the fire.”

Mal shakes her head. “I don’t know how.” Her whisper is swallowed by the crackle of flame. Flame she’s created. Flame she has no idea how to control.

Her palm stings and smokes, signs that seconds ago, she’d launched a fireball from her hand, striking the wreath. A fireball that is flickering into an inferno.

Shouts and cries tangle together with the fire’s sizzle and crack. Students rush in from every direction, crashing together in a tidal wave of shock and fear. With wide eyes and wider mouths, they form a semi-circle outside the school.

But Mal and Evie and Dizzy stand in front. Dizzy Tremaine, with her wild pigtails and her eyes stained with tears. Tears that had formed before the fire.

_“I found out what the wreath of junk means.” Dizzy’s voice was small, tucked away into a whisper._

_Evie arched an eyebrow at Mal. “Oh?”_

_Dizzy nodded. “Yeah. The people of Auradon bring it out every year to give thanks.” She scuffed the pavement with the toe of her shoe. “Thanks that they’re good, so they don’t have to live on an Isle full of junk.” The word junk wobbled, and Dizzy’s eyes liquified._

_Mal’s heart cracked. “What?”_

_Evie tucked a strand of hair behind Dizzy’s ear. “I’m sure that’s not –”_

_“I read about it.” Dizzy slipped her finger beneath her glasses, wiping at her tears. “In the history books. Auradon has a bunch of symbols for Thanksgiving.” She hiccupped on a sob. “Symbols that mean the people here are better than the people who come from the Isle.”_

_Evie wrapped Dizzy in her arms. “That doesn’t sound like Auradon.”_

_Mal glared at the wreath. “Actually, that sounds exactly like Auradon.” Before Ben became king. A king with the wisdom to know Isle wasn’t synonymous with_ evil. 

_Dizzy’s sobs spasmed through her shoulders._

_Evie tugged the small girl closer, and cast a fractured glance at Mal. “What do we do?” she mouthed._

_The crack in Mal’s heart fissured. “Add our own Isle flair.”_ Time to destroy an outdated symbol.

_She lifted her palm, pointing it at the wreath. Dipped into her store of magic, the pulsing energy within her soul, glowing bright as dragon fire. The energy she discovered weeks ago, when she first realized that her fire wasn't confined to her dragon form. She could access it as a fae, too._

_And in that moment, listening to Dizzy's sobs, she called upon her magic._

_Her eyes flared green, and a slender finger of flame sparked into life within her palm. She sent it toward the wreath._

_And then Dizzy hiccupped on another sob._

_And the slender finger of flame transformed into a fireball._

Mal is tugged back into the present by the scream of sirens.

Fire engines swerve into the street. People in uniform spill from their interiors. “Get back,” they shout. “Get back. Get back.”

Evie and Mal each take one of Dizzy’s arms, pulling the girl back into the wave of students, which crests behind the trucks.

And then water pushes from long hoses, pounding against the entrance of Auradon Prep. The inferno sizzles and sparks, spluttering into smoke. The water puts out Mal’s fire.

“Excuse me. Excuse me.” Fairy Godmother slides through the gaps between students, who are all glaring at Mal.

_Uh-oh._ Mal shoots a look at Evie, whose eyes flare wide. 

Dizzy swallows, falling back against Evie’s chest. “Maybe she doesn’t know.”

But there’s no way Mal can hide the smoke curling from her hand.

Fairy Godmother stands before them, her features pinched. “Mal.” Her voice is sharp and stern. “Please come with me.”

Mal sighs. “Coming, Fairy Godmother.” And she follows Fairy Godmother toward her office, past the dripping, soot-covered brick building.

~*~

According to Fairy Godmother, the wreath has many meanings. It is a symbol of old junk transformed into something new. A reminder to give thanks for new beginnings.

And, yes. It originated as a reminder that unlike the people confined to the Isle, the people of Auradon were free to live in a world unmarred by junk.

Perched in a wooden chair opposite Fairy Godmother, Mal curls her fingers into her thighs, careful not to form fists. “With five Isle kids here at Auradon prep, and more on their way, don’t you think it’s just a little bit insensitive?”

Fairy Godmother winces. “Symbols change, Mal. The wreath has changed. And it’s important to Auradon.” She leans forward in her plush leather chair. “Besides, you don’t live on the Isle anymore. Perhaps it’s time you embraced your new home.”

Mal bites into her cheek. “What do you mean?”

Fairy Godmother steeples her fingers beneath her chin. “Your punishment will be to help decorate the school for Thanksgiving.” She peers at Mal, who is trapped on the other side of her desk. “Take this time to learn about the symbols Auradon holds dear.”

Mal squeezes her eyes closed. “Can’t I just write lines?”

“After setting the school on fire?” Fairy Godmother’s voice flatlines. “It’s either this or cleaning the stables for the next two years.”

In the end, Mal chooses to decorate.

~*~

Day has fallen into night. Stars wink their secrets from the heavens, sprinkling silver light across the sky. Treetops billow in the wind. 

The cold breeze nips at Mal’s cheeks, numbing her nose.

She crunches through multi-colored leaves, taking solace in the forest behind the school.

Mal’s mind echoes with Fairy Godmother’s parting words, spoken as Mal pushed from her office: _“And remember, dear, magic is frowned upon in Auradon. I highly suggest you find another past time.”_

Mal kicks at a rock, sending it crashing into the trunk of a tree. _Another past time._

But that’s just it. Magic isn’t a past time.

Mal’s dragon fire burns through her blood. She reaches deep inside, and her fire is waiting. _It’s a part of me._

Her fire is a forever friend, always present.

She searches for it now. Finds it deep within her soul. And decides to coax it forth to play.

Dipping into her store of magic, into the pulsing glow of her energy, she asks her fire to form in the palm of her hand.

Within seconds, sparks of flame ignite against her skin. 

They’re beautiful, crimson and orange. Not enough to hurt the trees, but enough to flicker with life. Heartbeats of heat.

And yes, the front of the school is charred. The windows are broken, shattered from the scorch of Mal’s magic. _But does that mean it’s evil? That_ I’m _evil?_

She hadn’t meant to damage the school. She’d only wanted to protect Dizzy from that stupid wreath.

_Reason number one-thousand why I was never meant to be a lady._ A realization she'd reached two months ago, just before she'd broken up with Ben. Mal weaves the fire between her fingers, and her parting words with Ben flicker through her mind: _"I’m not a lady. I’m not a future queen. And I’m not completely Isle, either. I guess I’m somewhere in between.”_

Somewhere in between. A space Ben will never occupy, not when he knows his role so well.

Mal’s still trying to find that space. The space of between-things where she isn’t evil, and not altogether good, but she’s still a decent person. A person who can weave fire between her fingers and who doesn’t always do her homework and who sometimes has friendlier-than-friendly thoughts about a person who isn’t Ben. A girl person. _Reason number one-thousand-one why I was never meant to be Ben’s lady. I doubt he’d be okay with my thoughts about Evie._

Mal’s cheeks flush with a heat that has nothing to do with the fire swirling through her hand. _Would Evie be okay with the thoughts I’m having?_

‘Cause they happen all the time. Thoughts about plump lips and skilled seamstress fingers and a husky voice which shares bits of knowledge, sending shivers down Mal’s spine. 

But Evie is an Auradon girl. And Mal doesn’t know what kind of girl she is yet. She closes her fist, extinguishing her fire. _I’m still searching for the space between._

~*~

When Mal opens the door to her dorm, she’s greeted by a flutter of curtains, the rustling of fabric, and two girls. A smaller girl who stares outside at the stars, and a taller girl who rises from her sewing chair with a gorgeous grin.

Mal’s heart flutters. “Hey, you two.”

Dizzy bounces from the windows to the foot of Mal’s bed. “Hi, Mal!” Her eyes glow behind her glasses. “Are you really going to decorate, Mal?”

Mal pushes the door closed. “Looks like.”

“That’s so cool.” Dizzy launches herself onto Mal’s mattress, kicking her feet. “Maybe you can set more wreaths on fire.”

“Or not.” Evie laughs and meets Mal at the door, her lips twisted into a smile. “You’re Dizzy’s hero,” she whispers, leaning close to Mal’s ear.

“Mmm.” She closes her eyes, savoring the warmth radiating from her best friend’s lips. “Just Dizzy’s?”

"You were already mine." Evie nuzzles Mal’s cheek. “And not because you set things on fire.”

“Uh-oh,” Dizzy sing-songs. “Are you two gonna kiss?” She splits the word kiss in two, as though it’s formed to come apart.

And come apart they do.

Evie jumps back from Mal, her face bright red. “No. Of course not.” She shuffles toward her sewing machine. “Why would you think that, Dizzy?”

“Yeah, Dizzy.” Mal shoves her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “Why would you think that?” Her voice is a half-hearted echo.

Dizzy shrugs. “You just looked like it, that’s all.”

_Did we?_ Mal shoots a glance at Evie.

But Evie’s already back in her sewing chair, filling the room with the mechanical punch of her sewing machine. Her gaze cuts from her hands to the fabric to the needle. She’s looking anywhere but at Mal.

Mal drops her gaze to the carpet. Swallows a punch of disappointment from her throat.

The space between slips away.

~*~

Mal's punishment begins at 4am.

She slips from bed when the moon still glows in a butter-grey sky, and the stars still cast their shine. With grumbles and groans, she stumbles half-awake through the school’s corridors, her burning eyes halfway shut, her mind fuzzy with sleep, lulled by the memory of dreams. _Next time I decide to set the school on fire, I’m definitely petitioning for a later punishment._

Three days. Three days of waking up at 4am and stumbling into the school hallways, of forfeiting sleep to decorate and learn about Auradon.

And on each of those days, Fairy Godmother has arranged for a different AK to help.

The first day, it’s Audrey. 

The daughter of Sleeping Beauty stands just inside the double entrance doors, scowling at the daughter of Maleficent _(“Took you long enough”)_. Audrey taps her long nails against a cart bursting with crimson fabric-flowers. The symbolism of the flowers is simple: _“Before King Beast banished the villains to the Isle, the kingdom was desolate. Most life had been destroyed by the hatred of evil magic. These flowers were the first sign of new growth.”_

Audrey speaks to Mal in a monotone, as if she is reading from a script. And Mal does everything she can not to roll her eyes. 

Because the idea of these flowers – the hope of new life – is actually kinda cool. 

But it’s definitely not something she ever experienced on the Isle. 

The Isle, a concrete jungle crafted from piles of junk, where trees fail to grow and the only flowers are shriveled and brown. 

_My home._ Mal clumps the flowers together into her fist. Tosses the fabric into a basket. _Yet another reason the AKs have to celebrate: They didn’t have to grow up like me and my friends._

Mal and Audrey work in silence, avoiding each other. Until the walls are covered in crimson, and they join forces, pressing flowers onto the final stretch of white.

When they are shoulder-to-shoulder, Audrey jabs her thumb against the final flower, sticking it to the wall. “Why’d you do it?” she whispers. “Why destroy that wreath?”

_Because it hurt a friend._ Mal drops the empty flower basket to the floor. _How do you get someone who thinks they’re above the Isle to understand what it’s like?_ “I know you’re from Auroria, Audrey.” Mal runs the toe of her boot along the wall’s edge. “Do you feel like, even on the days when you’d rather be anywhere else, you still owe something to the village? Because it’s part of what’s made you who you are?”

Audrey traces her finger along the lines of a crimson flower. “Yeah. I guess.”

Mal stares at the girl. Stares at her until she is staring back. “What makes you think,” she asks, locking onto Audrey’s gaze, “that the kids from the Isle feel any differently than you do?”

Audrey’s gaze widens. And darkens with understanding.

~*~

On the second day, Mal helps pair the crimson flowers with intricate carvings: a plow crossed by a sword, topped with a crown.

“Farmer, warrior and royal,” Lonnie explains, hanging a carving between two flowers.

“Yeah.” Jane hangs her carving beside Lonnie’s. “They symbolize everyone coming together to form a new kingdom. During the Reigns of Terror, people didn’t think they’d ever get the chance for peace.”

“My mom helped with that.” Lonnie grins, tapping her finger against a sword.

_My mom helped with the terror._ With sinking heart, Mal turns to the window. And stares at the early morning moonlight splashing through the glass. 

The world is a silhouette, darkened even in the moon’s silver light. 

Interesting how in a world where light shines from every surface, darkness still finds a way of seeping through the cracks. It’s as if the world has found its own space between. A place where darkness and light mingle to create something unique.

Mal’s breath coats the window in mist, as if hiding the secrets to finding that elusive space. 

She drags her finger through the mist, and glimpses Jane and Lonnie’s reflections. They are staring back at her, their features creased in sympathy.

Mal’s chest twists. “Okay.” She steps away from the window. “Let’s finish this thing. I hear they’re serving strawberry crepes for breakfast, and I call first dibs.”

~*~

Each day just as Mal finishes decorating, Evie appears. Appears as though she has stepped out of some secret world, and has found Mal in whatever distant corner of the school her punishment has led her.

On the first day, Evie appears with Jay and Carlos, who link arms with Mal _(“VK solidarity.”)_ Evie walks behind them, caressing Mal’s back any time someone challenges her with a glare.

Evie's touch is a balm of warmth, soothing Mal's soul. Because the glares are like serrated knives, slicing Mal with shame. Two months ago, she'd been a lady of this kingdom. Now, she's the cause of the school's destruction.

"Just look straight ahead, M," Evie whispers in her ear. "I've got your back."

Mal believes her.

Evie is there on the second day, too. Jay and Carlos have early morning tourney practice, so Evie appears with Dizzy. With pigtails flying, the little girl skips ahead, leaving Mal and Evie to face the glares alone. 

And even though there are less glares that second day, the kids too busy admiring Mal’s decorations, Chad sets his jaw and calls Mal _“Pyro.”_

Mal is about to return the blow when Evie parries with _“Klepto,”_ and links her fingers with Mal’s.

Evie's touch is like fire, swirling through Mal’s fingertips and dancing in the palm of her hand.

After that, Mal stops noticing the glares.

~*~

And so Mal's punishment continues

On the third day, cold air rushes through the main doors of the school, carrying with it the sharp scent of paint. Bundled in her leather jacket, Mal steps outside and discovers Ben.

Her ex stares up at the entrance of the school, his eyes gleaming in the fading starlight. “I wanted you to see," he says. "Even things that have been hurt can be turned into something new.” He points at the brick, once charred from Mal’s fire, now gleaming white with fresh paint.

The paint shimmers in a way that catches the glow of moon and stars, transforming the entrance of Auradon Prep into something magical. Even the windows capture the light, sparkling with radiance. There is no wreath. There is only magic.

Mal stares at the transformation, and her lips part. “I didn’t destroy the school.”

“Not even close.” Ben touches her shoulder. “The kids know it, too. Everyone’s talking about your decorations.”

“And the wreath of junk?”

“Some traditions deserve to be retired.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You may not be my lady, Mal, or even my girlfriend, but you’re still a part of my kingdom. You and your friends. Soon, other kids from the Isle will be, too. I want you to feel welcome.”

Mal glances at her ex, and warms in the sunburst-and-honey heat of his gaze. 

“Thank you.” The words choke in her throat.

A few minutes later, they reenter the school. Standing on double ladders, they hang the final decoration just inside the main doors: a gigantic ivory book emblazoned with golden script: _cognoscunt amet._

“Cognoscunt amet?” The words are awkward on Mal’s tongue.

“Knowledge before magic.” Ben hammers the final nail into the book.

_Of course._ Mal stares at her hands. Clenches them into fists around the top rung of her ladder. Because there may no longer be a wreath, but that doesn’t mean Mal is entirely welcome in Auradon. _At least, not every part of me._

Ben drops his hammer onto the top of his ladder, creating a metallic clang. “Mal?”

“Hmm?”

“When we broke up, you said you were searching for a place in-between.” His voice is a little unbalanced, teetering between kindness and sorrow. “Have you found that place yet?”

Mal burrows into her shoulders. “Still looking.”

Ben slips his finger beneath Mal’s chin, raising her gaze to meet his steady stare. “You might want to look outside. I think she’s waiting for you.”

_She?_ Mal’s mind flashes on the she who lives inside her thoughts, the girl who appears by her side each day, finding Mal in distant corners as though she’s stepping through a doorway of mist. _Evie._ Mal’s heart jackrabbits, thumping into her ears.

“Go on.” Ben tips his head toward the doors. The kindness-and-sorrow of his voice paints itself across his face in an unsteady smile. “It’s okay.”

Mal leans over her ladder to brush Ben’s cheek with a kiss. “You were always too good for me.”

She slips down the rungs of her ladder and pushes through the double doors, into the world outside. The fading moon shines silver within the sky, opposite the golden ball of dawning sun. 

And beneath them both stands Evie, who greets Mal with a crescent-moon grin, highlights of gold dancing through her eyes.

“We still have a few hours before school starts.” Evie unfolds a map. “I was wondering if you wanted to go here.” She points to a distant mountain on the edges of Auradon. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“I’d love to.” Mal caresses the mountain with her fingertip. “But it would take us forever, even on my Vespa.”

“Oh, Mal.” Evie folds the map, slipping it into the pocket of her jeans. “Who needs a Vespa when you can fly?”

She casts Mal a look spelled with secrets. A look that dips inside Mal’s chest, tangling with the secret of magic pulsing through Mal’s blood. 

Mal’s eyes widen. “You want to –”

“Take a flight on a dragon?” Evie winks. “Thought you’d never ask.”

~*~ 

Mal stretches her wings across the sky, the purple of her dragon scales mingling with the crimsons, ivories, and lilacs of sunrise. 

Evie’s arms are a warmth around Mal’s neck, her squeals of delight a heat within Mal’s heart. “There!” Her best friend cries. “There’s the mountain.”

Mal flutters her wings, descending onto the mountaintop. 

When her talons touch rock and dirt, Evie slides from her back. Dances around the dragon that is Mal. “That was so cool!”

Mal snorts, and a wisp of smoke escapes her nostrils. _Tell me about it._

Now that Evie has slid from her back, Mal decides to transform back into a fae. And so she imagines herself making the transformation. Imagines herself not as a dragon, but as a girl with hair as lilac as the sunrise, decked in purple leather and wearing her signature jacket. 

She fills with white-hot heat, and her body shrinks back to fae-size in a puff of purple mist. Through her fairy eyes, she takes in her surroundings.

They are standing not on top of a mountain, but astride a cliff. It tapers off into a distant world, where sapphire water streams through multi-colored trees and the lights of villages blink golden in greeting.

Mal swallows a breath. "What is this place?"

Evie slips her hand into Mal’s. “It’s Auradon, M. All of Auradon. From up here, it’s just another place where people live their lives.”

Mal slides her thumb along Evie’s hand. “So why bring me up here?”

“You brought me, dragon-hearted Mal.” Evie squeezes her hand and turns them away from the view of the kingdom. “And I wanted to show you that other worlds exist outside of Auradon.”

They’re standing in an intricate network of stones. 

Each stone forms one of many lines to a certain center, where several boulders create a circle around a pit of gravel. 

But it isn’t just gravel.

Because on the periphery of the stones stands a towering metallic stick topped with several ovals set at different heights. 

And the rising sun shines through the middle-most oval, casting its light into the boulder-circle. Creating radiance.

Evie tugs on Mal’s hand, leading her through the stone-crafted lines. “This was once a powerhouse of fire magic. See?” She points at the boulder-circle. “It’s a fire pit. You can join flame with sunlight, paying respect to the element of fire.”

Mal’s mouth turns dry, and she tangles her fingers with Evie’s. “You brought me here to celebrate my magic?”

“Your magic is amazing.” Her eyes glistening, Evie tucks a strand of lilac behind Mal’s ear. “Just like you are.” The words are a whisper's breath. Evie dips her head, hiding behind her sapphire waves.

But Mal can’t stop staring at her best friend. At the girl who has found her, every single time. When she ran away to the Isle. When she disappeared into the corners of the school. When she disappeared inside herself.

And every time Evie finds Mal, she figures out a way to help Mal find herself. Because here, in this circle of stones, on a clifftop overlooking the kingdom, Mal finally gets it. “I don’t have to fit in or accept every stupid Auradon tradition. I can make my own world. _We_ can make our own world, E.”

Evie glances up at Mal from beneath her lashes. “Our own world, Mal?”

Fear ties a knot in Mal’s chest, curling into her throat. “I think about you.” She chokes on the words. “More than I should. In ways that I shouldn’t.”

Evie’s grin stretches across her face, more radiant than the sunlight. “I think about you, too. All the time, I think about you.” Her fingers still tangled in Mal’s, she caresses Mal’s cheek with the knuckles of her opposite hand. “ Your courage. Your kindness. Your lips." 

Mal’s pulse is a crash of thunder. “I really wanna kiss you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Evie’s voice is satin with husk.

Mal crushes her lips to Evie’s. Moans when Evie deepens the kiss with a caress of her tongue. Sliding her hand to Evie’s hip, she pulls her more-than-best-friend closer, savoring the curve of her body, the heat of her skin. The feel of her fingers, threaded through Mal’s hair. 

The kiss lasts for seconds or minutes or maybe hours. Hours shrink into minutes. Minutes shrink into seconds. And Mal and Evie part in a tumble of ragged breaths and tingling lips. 

Seeking balance, they lean their foreheads together. Their gazes meet, their eyes shining with emotion. And a silent understanding is passed between them both. An understanding that leads to more kisses. 

Just before they leave the clifftop, Evie convinces Mal to fill the boulder-circle with her fire. The flame crackles from Mal’s fingers into the circle of sun, joining pink-and-golden light with orange-and-crimson flame. 

Standing in the glow of fire, sun and Evie, Mal knows she’s found her space between.

~*~

Two days later, the school holds the Thanksgiving feast. Auradon and Isle kids join forces, enjoying every delicacy the kingdom has to offer. There are no glares. No biting comments. In fact, some of the kids even smile and flash Mal thumbs-up _(“Great job with the decorations, Mal!”)_

Days ago, the glares had cut into Mal’s heart. Now, the praise mends her wounds.

But the best part is when Ben grins at Mal and presents the school with a new wreath. A wreath of photos.

Photos taken on the tourney field.

Photos taken in classes.

Photos taken as kids cheered for games.

“Look, M.” Evie points at the center of the wreath. “It’s all of us.”

Sure enough, it’s a photo of the Isle Five. Taken the day Dizzy arrived in Auradon. They sit around a table, sharing ice cream.

Mal leans her cheek on Evie’s shoulder. “I guess we are part of the tradition, after all.”

She takes in the room around her: Audrey stopping to wave “hello;” Jane and Lonnie admiring the wreath; Carlos and Jay tossing nuts into the air, catching them in their mouths; Dizzy devouring a plateful of candy.

And Evie. Evie, who tucks her arm around Mal’s waist, pulling her close. Evie, who nuzzles the top of Mal’s head with her cheek. Evie, who has taken Mal to the edge of a cliff, where they both learned how to fly.

Mal offers thanks to her new world. And takes her girlfriend’s hand.


End file.
